Gedwey Garjzla
by Melcangel
Summary: "Be not who you were born as, but who you were born to be- the brightest light in this world of darkness." Book 4. Carries on from Brisingr. ExA
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** As redundant as these are...(it is fanfiction) I'll make sure I cover my butt...No copyright breech is intended in the writing of this story. All recognisable plot points, characters etc. belong to Christopher Paolini.

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**Prologue: Deja Vu**

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_The woman's dark chestnut hair gleamed almost ebony in the single strip of moonlight that illuminated the stone cell. Head bowed, wrists shackled to the roof; her muscles strained and trembled with the effort of attempting to lift her weight off her scarred and bloodied wrists. Her clothes, or what remained of them, hung in tatters off her bony shoulders. Where her skin was not covered by the dirty and frayed cloth, evidence of her abuse was visible as she shifted further facing the moonlight. Wounds days old wept between crusty layers of dirt and blood while the newer sores continually bled and reopened with each small movement…_

…_Leaves blew across the ancient ruins, the rustle being the only sound he could hear. The air colder due to the summit, the oak trees trembled with the frigid breeze. The ground was scattered with pieces of stone, debris, leaves and the remnants of snap pea pods._

"_Well? Are you coming?"_

_The croaky voice pierced through the sound of the wind, causing him to turn quickly only to see the whirl of a cloth disappear behind a stone ruin as its owner vanished from sight. He followed, turning behind the ruin only to find himself within a spacious stone room, littered with scrolls and paper. The window set high in the wall was swinging on its hinges, the latch broken, and allowed a strong gust of wind to enter the room, resulting in paper being blown to the far side of the room. Instinctively, he hurried to contain the flying bits of paper, grabbing the scrolls lying on the table closest to him and gathering them in his arms. When the wind died down, whispers replaced the rustle of paper as he replaced the scrolls and attempted to close them. The words however were blurred to his eyes just as the voices were jumbled to his ears. The sound of footsteps behind him however caused him to drop the paper in surprise…_

_The sound of echoing footsteps outside of the woman's cell caused little response except for the further tensing of her muscles and the capture of her blood red lip between her teeth. As the footsteps ceased abruptly, the only sound that could be heard was the slow but shaky inhale from the shackled woman, until the door flew open, rebounding with the force of the blow. The woman finally lifted her head just as the shadow of a hulking man darkened the room, the sound of a leather lengths creaking at his wrist…_

Eragon awoke in a cold sweat...

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**A/N: Hey guys. So this story has been in my head for an incredibly long time. I swear, you should see the copious pages of notes I have on this thing…lol. Anywho, I can't say for sure when updates will be up, but the next chapter is written and shall be up VERY soon. I enjoy this story so much so it shouldn't be hard to continue! :P **


	2. Chapter 1

_Gedwey garjzla_

**Disclaimer:** No copyright breech is intended in the writing of this story. All recognizable plot points, characters etc. belong to Christopher Paolini.

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**Chapter 1:**

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_There is so much I do not know, so much that is yet to be revealed_. Eragon stared out over the city of Feinster from far above the city streets. From his place on the roof of the highest tower within the citadel even the sea was visible, the moonlight glistening in a way that Eragon had only seen from Saphira's scales. During the day, the city streets were crowded with the Varden and townspeople alike. Every now and again, someone had turned and raised their arms, pointing at the lone figure in curiosity. It wasn't until the blue dragon settled herself where the man was sitting did any of the villagers recognize who the figure was.

There were several, however, who knew who was perched on top of Feinster's citadel. Several times that night since he had been dismissed from Lady Nasuada's quarters, Eragon had seen Jormundr, Roran and King Orrin pass his sight, finishing business they needed to see to before they turned in for the night. Only once had each of them raised their eyes above and only once had each raised a hand in a silent greeting of goodwill before continuing on. Eragon did not see Arya pass out side the city walls, but he did in fact see her returning to the citadel once the sun had lowered far below the horizon.

Despite the progress they had made within their friendship, Eragon still did not know what to expect from the often intimidating elf. He used to be under the misconception that she was static, frozen, and emotionless. However, he had since discovered that that was not entirely true. There were times, rare as they were, that her flawless and carefully erected barriers lowered and Eragon got a glimpse of what it was the elf was feeling. On their first journey to Elesmera, Arya had been anxious and on edge, which in hindsight is understandable due to the fact she was about to reveal her true identity and confront a woman she had not had significant contact with for seven decades. During the Agaeti Blodhrem, the occasion had Arya in high spirits. Again, not days ago, when Eragon had revealed the passing of Oromis and Glaedr, Arya had opening wept and allowed Eragon to hold her and despite his devastation and sadness at the time, Eragon was still conscious enough to be well aware of the fact.

Then again, he was always aware of her presence. Eragon likened it to a gentle shift in the wind when she entered a room. He wouldn't have to even turn around and see her and yet he knew with perfect clarity exactly where she was. Regardless of his efforts to rid himself of his feelings for her, Eragon was well aware that they always lay under the surface; just waiting it seemed for the most inopportune moment to make themselves known. What scared him to some extent was that, while he wasn't completely sure, he had an idea as to how she would react to that particular sentiment.

His confusion as to the elven woman's actions caused Eragon to avoid eye contact with Arya when she entered the area surrounding the citadel. He knew there was no way her Elven eyes would miss his figure silhouetted on the tower roof, nor not recognize who it was. Eragon gazed out over the city and followed the wandering trail of the moonlight across the distant ocean as he sensed Arya stop not long after passing the crumbling walls of the city's most impressive structure.

Instead of continuing on however, Eragon felt a presence probe gently at the outer defenses of his mind. Instinct caused him to reinforce his barriers and prepare his mind to attack when he realized the intruder was in fact a mind he was familiar with.

_"Is all well Shurturgal? The sun has long since descended and you should sleep while you are given the chance." _

Eragon doubted such an intimate intrusion would have occurred earlier in their relationship. However, while the elf still confused Eragon regarding what she was feeling, their experiences together helped him understand a little more of Arya's actions. It would be easy to assume the elf was being condescending in her attempt to rebuke him for wasting time that could be spent in other more useful ways. However, Eragon recognized the subtle sincere concern within Arya's question. Besides, it had been obvious throughout the day of Eragon restless sleep the night before. Underneath his eyes was tinged blue and he made it a habit to blink more then normal just to give the illusion of being refreshed after a goodnights sleep. Many just attributed it to exhaustion after his battle with the shade, however, a select few saw through his facade. Nasuada gave him direct orders to go to rest after the day was done. When he pointed out the many things he needed to do before he turned in, his liege simply replied, "We are no good to anybody if we cannot think or act clearly Eragon. Besides, there are times to continue on through the exhaustion, when our duty calls for it, but there is no fault in taking the chance to rest when we can."

Eragon simply nodded his ascent and when the meeting was over, made his way to his quarters within the citadel. However tired he felt, his mind refused to rest and he flew with Saphira to the tower where he hoped he could clear his head and quite his mind enough to sleep.

Arya, it seemed, had noticed his rather poor attempts at keeping himself alert during the day.

_"Sleep is rather allusive tonight it seems Arya Svit-Kona. I am fine. I will tire soon and give my body a chance to rest." _

Eragon wasn't sure whether he would have been able to reply in such a way if they were speaking in the ancient language. He knew he definitely wasn't fine and his final statement was sheer optimism rather then actual fact. There was a pause and Eragon wondered whether Arya had bought his ruse. Eragon finally turned his head down towards her and saw the elf regarding him with a quiet intensity that made Eragon feel for sure that she didn't believe any of what he just said. Nevertheless, she bowed her head slightly before answering.

_"Very well Eragon. Goodnight. Rest and I will see you in the morning. Sleep well."_

She glanced up once more before she continued into the citadel until she disappeared from Eragon's sight. Eragon sighed and turned his gaze back out to the ocean and the waves breaking softly on the shore. He felt Saphira fly closer to him sooner then he actually saw her.

_You have grown much little one. Once, you would have managed to insult her or make her feel uncomfortable. I am very proud of you._

Usually, Saphira's comment would have at least caused Eragon a chuckle at his dragon's poor attempt at making a joke. However, Eragon could hardly find the humor and simply hummed in response. To any one else who may have been watching, there would be no way a creature of Saphira's magnitude would be able to balance on the towers edge. However the time spent training with Glaedr was put to good use when the blue dragon landed gracefully a top the tower next to her rider, who had yet to turn towards her.

_Saphira, I feel I do not know what to do. And yet, I do know. The problem is that I do not know how to accomplish what I need to do. As if my daylight hours are not cause enough for worry, fate has decided to be cruel and haunt my sleep with worrying and erratic visions. These aren't just dreams Saphira. Something is happening somewhere that I should be aware of, something I'm supposed to know, something I'm supposed to be prepared for…_

It had been a long time since he had had any dreams that vivid, or that confusing. They had begun the first night after the battle and had continued for several days afterwards. He had yet to get a decent night sleep and as such, his mind and body were paying the price. At first he believed it was the after-effects of entering the shades mind, however, his dreams did not seem to be memories of the once human man's life before he was inhabited with spirits. Instead they seemed almost erratic, with no connection to his current troubles. The sudden changes in scene puzzled him, as did the identity of the woman within the cell. Eragon had a strange sense of déjà vu. There were certain parallels to the dreams he had of Arya during her imprisonment. They were just as vivid as they were then. Who the woman was or where she could be remained unknown. There was something, and yet Eragon didn't know what, that caused him to feel as if he knew the woman. However, he simply couldn't place her, especially in the state he was in.

What confused him further was the interruption that seemed to occur within the middle of his dream. He recognized the glade as the very same one in which he had first met Tenga that hermit. Similarly, the room with the books and scrolls was Tenga's sitting room. However, there was no indication of the significance of the blurred scroll or the absence of Tenga himself. Eragon's head hurt even more thinking about it. The dream seemed to beg more questions then it answered.

_Little one, I have seen your dreams. You are correct in saying they are similar to the ones you had of Arya. Nevertheless, your mind is exhausted and your body has yet to completely recover from battle._

_I do need rest Saphira, but what if what I'm seeing is really happening? How can I continue with visions of her torture in my head at night if I know they are real at the very moment I see them. How can I not try and help? Look at Arya, if I hadn't have had those visions, I would never have found her in Gil'ead, Arya would be dead, or worse, in the hands of Galbatorix and we would most likely have never reached the Varden, let alone met Oromis and Glaedr and all the other things that have happened to us…_

Eragon could feel Saphira's exhaustion even from his side of their link_. I did not say that we would not help, little one, but simply that nothing can be done right now. We can also not abandon everything simply on the whim that this woman exists. We will attempt to find her, yes, to determine if she is indeed real and in danger but we will only do so when time allows. I know to you it sounds harsh, but we did not discover Arya straight away either. We will just have to hope that if this woman is real, that she has the strength to hold on until such a time as we can find her._

Eragon's sigh was weary and his head was pounding. He had barely thought of his reply before he was interrupted.

_You ARE tired. For once please do not argue with me, little one. Your head is thumping and you can barely keep your eyes open. If you cannot rest up in that small room, then I will be forced to carry you elsewhere where you WILL sleep. And while I would have little hesitation in doing so, I feel it would be somewhat unappreciated by those who may not be able to find you in the morning. Now, come my brave, stubborn rider._

Eragon gave one more glance at the moon across the water to discover it had moved considerably higher in the sky. _Perhaps you are right Saphira. _Saphira snorted, resulting in Eragon being momentarily surrounded by a cloud of hot smoke. _I know I am right. I am a dragon._

This time, Eragon managed a small smile as he jumped on top of Saphira and she took off to circle the citadel twice before landing in a courtyard closest to Eragon temporary chambers. _Goodnight Saphira. I love you._

_And I love you. Goodnight little one and let us hope tonight's terrors stay at bay._

It wasn't until Eragon had climbed the various stairs and hallways, removed his sword, belt, boots and tunic and tumbled into the soft sheets of his bed that he voiced his last thoughts before entering the elven like dream stare.

_Yes, let's hope my mind is free for this one night._

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Lady Nasuada was bent over a map of the south western coast of Alagaesia when there was a sharp knock at her door_. Punctual as always, Jormundr_.

"Yes, come in."

A broad shouldered, dark haired man of Nasuada's personal guard entered and bowed quickly before talking in a precise, business-like tone.

"M' Lady, the Elven ambassador is here to see you."

Nasuada raised a single eyebrow slightly. I was quite normal for Jormundr to arrive punctually when she called a meeting with the respective rulers of the various nations under the Varden's banner- the 'Leaders of the Light' she had once laughingly referred to them- however, Arya was another matter. She was never inconveniently late, but she was also never one of the first people to arrive when she was called for. It would not have been the first time she had called a meeting for Orik to mutter about the elves obscure sense of 'time' and their inability to be anywhere when they are supposed to.

"Yes, allow her to enter." The man bowed again and exited the room. As always, Arya entered the room back straight, head held high with her eyes gazing the perimeter of the room. Upon recognizing no danger, the elf closed the door behind her and made her way gracefully to one of the chairs opposite the desk in which Lady Nasuada sat.

"Is there something you wanted to speak with me privately about Arya?" Nasuada was well aware of the fact that Arya did not arrive earlier simply to be punctual. There was an ulterior motive behind the uncharacteristically early visit.

Arya looked away from the window to see the Varden leader looking right at her. "Have you spoken to Eragon this morning?"

Her question caused the leader of the Varden to raise her eyebrows. The last free Dragon Rider in Alagaesia, the Varden's only hope and someone Nasuada had come to see as a true friend was rarely a topic of Arya's conversation. Nasuada would never presume to be completely aware of the details regarding the Dragon Rider and the elf's relationship, but things seemed…strained at times. Especially when Eragon first returned from Elesmera the two had seemed distant. However, the elven ambassador's actions and reasons for them had alluded Nasuada's understanding since she was a young girl. For many years, Arya had seemed stoic, indestructible. It wasn't until Nasuada came to lead the Varden upon her father's death that she saw varying aspects of Arya's character.

The elf was still, her face indecipherable.

"No Arya, I haven't seen Eragon this morning. Of course I was hoping he would have been sleeping but as you evidently have seen him, I guess this is not the case…" Nasuada moved some of the papers in front of her to the side and motioned for the elf to continue. Despite initiating the meeting, Arya seemed reluctant to continue.

"I saw him last night. After returning from scouting the surrounding areas, I entered the citadel and found him sitting upon the tower. He was still there when I left him. I don't know when he slept, but this morning there has been little change I'm afraid. He's exhausted."

"Arya, we have just captured the city, he has fought a shade and his mentor has passed into the void. I believe it plausible for him to be fatigued." In actual fact, Nasuada was well aware that this was most likely not the case. Yes, everything she had said was true, but she knew Eragon to be resilient. In simple terms, he should have recovered by now. It had been days since the battle. There was no reason the leader of the Varden could think of as to why Eragon would not be getting the rest he so obviously needed.

Arya, it appeared, was well aware of this fact.

"Nasuada, something is wrong. Something must be done."

If Nasuada was honest with herself, she simply did not know what to do. She was not Eragon's mother, nor was she his caretaker. Not only was it not her responsibility as his liege-lord to relieve him of his nightmares, but how could she help him overcome the demons that haunted his sleep when she couldn't even rid herself of her own.

The Varden's leader sighed and rested the bridge of her nose between her fingers before lifting her head and looking directly at the elf in front of her.

"I know Arya, but what do you suggest? Eragon is not, by any means, a child. He has seen things and experienced things that would cripple a lesser man. We can support him, offer him help and guidance when he asks for it, but we cannot fight his battles for him. If that were the case, I would not hesitate to hide him and Saphira away somewhere where they can be free of the plague this war has become. I would never have wanted to bring anyone into this world, but he is the key, Arya. He is our only hope against Galbatorix. He is the only one who can fight that battle, just as he is the only one who can fight whatever demons are haunting him now."

Arya's gaze darted to the door briefly before it settled on the open window to Nasuada's left. There was suddenly a knock at the door.

"Yes?" _Damn Elven senses…_

The same man as before walked into the room. His glance at the static elf in the hard-backed chair in front of him was the only sign of his discomfort at interrupting whatever it was that was being discussed. "Milady, everybody you have called for has now arrived. They await your permission to enter."

"Is Eragon Shadeslayer among them?" Despite the serious times in which they found themselves, Nasuada could not help but hope that Eragon was not with the group that now crowded outside the room. Maybe he had managed to sleep. Surely Saphira would be aware of his exhaustion and allow him rest…

The man nodded. "Yes Milady, he arrived just after Lady Trianna. Should I send them in?"

"Yes, send them in." The man then closed the door and Nasuada looked at the Elven ambassador. "Arya?"

Arya turned the dark skinned woman, her lips pursed together tightly, and her brow frowning in one of the only demonstrations of anxiety Nasuada had ever seen on the elf's face.

"Well then…I guess we will know soon enough."

One by one, the group filed into the room. Orrin and Jormundr entered one after the other, the former seemingly attempting to illustrate the later the minor details of Orrin's latest experiment. It was evident that Orik, who had arrived with some of his troops not the day before, was less then amused by Orrin's tale, his eyes following every movement within the room except those of the man he was supposedly conversing with. Upon recognizing Arya's form in one of the chairs in front of, the Dwarf king's eyebrows raised to his hairline.

Arya, however, vacated her seat and walked gracefully over to the south facing window, crossed her arms across her chest and stood immobile as Nar Garzhvog, Roran and Martland both entered the room. Roran and Nasuada's recently promoted battle adviser were talking in low voices of war tactics and battle strategies. Both men nodded their heads in Nasuada's direction before continuing on their conversation. The Kull chief raised his head in a show of friendship then retreated to the edge of the room where he surveyed the last of the group that came in.

Trianna looked no more worse for wear then she had before the siege. The sorceress held herself tall in her striking red dress that flowed out from her shapely hips and cascaded to the floor. Nasuada wondered where the sorceress had acquired such a dress. It was not by any means something of lavish finery but its colour and fit ensured that the woman could not pass into a room without being noticed. Only on several occasions had the Varden leader seen Trianna make such a conscious effort at attracting attention and each and every time, there was some unfortunate man within the witch's line of sight.

Trianna's object of…well, if not affection, then certainly attention, was revealed when the final member of the party entered the room and the witch tilted her head to gaze over her shoulder as he closed the door.

It was no secret that Trianna had personal agendas which she strived to achieve. However since these agenda seemed to simply be in the witch's best interests and not in betrayal of the Varden, Nasuada hadn't concerned herself. It was also no secret that the witch held a special interest in Saphira's rider. All Nasuada could wonder at was why she would reattempt to gain his affections now. Whatever Trianna had sought to gain from Eragon when he first arrived in Farthen Dur, it seemed to dissipate when he left for the Elven forests. It seemed however that she had again changed her mind.

There was no doubt in Nasuada's mind who Trianna was seeking to impress. After all, ignoring the fact that most of the men in the room were kull, married or just simply not of interest to the scheming witch, Eragon was…as Nasuada was in fact aware due to the less then subtle conversations of her maid servents, a very good looking man. Even when he had arrived at the Varden, he was certainly handsome by human standards. However, since his change at the hand of the dragons, Eragon's features had refined themselves, his body acquiring the grace of the Elven race. There were however certain differences. While male Elves were lean with a strength hidden to the human eye, Eragon's build had noticeably more muscle definition. He was not bulky by any means but if Nasuada was honest with herself, she would have considered Eragon to have acquired the better features of both races.

Trianna, like most women within the camp, had noticed.

The aforementioned rider however was still showing signs of exhaustion. His eyes blinked excessively, the underneath tinged blue. His hair was in disarray which- while not exactly out of the ordinary- made him seem more unkempt and disorganized. Walking into the room, he sidestepped Trianna who had halted not far into the room and made his way over to the far wall where the Kull chief rested heavily.

"Let's begin. Jormundr, I want an update on the Varden's losses during the siege. What of our casualties?" Jormundr proceeded to detail the Varden's losses, the number of which was considerably less then they had anticipated. He also went on to describe the Varden's position within the city. The initial resistance seemed to have lessened and many of the cities people had accepted Varden control. Lady Leona had in fact proved extremely helpful in that regard. The Elven spellcasters, alone with Arya had fought against the control Galbatorix had over her mind. While some of her oaths still remained in place- hence her continued confinement- she was proving helpful in her knowledge of the local area and the strength of the Empire's hold on the surrounding areas. It was in fact a tip off from the cities previous ruler that led to Nasuada's more pressing concerns.

"Lady Leona has continued to be helpful, at least in regards to what her oaths allow. Arya, how fare the elves in completely removing her oaths?"

The elf finally turned from the window. "We are making progress I believe. Galbatorix' hold over her mind has weakened considerably. With continued effort, it should not be long before her mind is once again her own." With the question answered, the elf returned her gaze to the window, but not before glancing briefly at the wearied rider across the room and frowning at his lack of response. Just as Arya had turned away, Eragon flinched, bowing his head and closing his eyes.

Nasuada could see, even from across the room, Eragon's muscles clench, his body becoming rigid. If truth be told, she didn't even think he was breathing. Then, just as quickly as it begun, Eragon relaxed, raised his head and opened his eyes only to find every being in the room looking at him worriedly.

"Eragon? Is something the matter?" Nasuada became more worried when she saw Eragon frown and rub his forehead with the back of his hand.

"No, everything is fine Nasuada. I apologize for my lack of attention. Saphira simply asked me a question."

Nasuada doubted very much that that was true. She had seen Eragon's reactions whenever he spoke to Saphira. She had seen him laugh, frown and even become angry. He would have subtle facial movements that to anyone who didn't know any better would seem like he was talking to voices in his head. Which- when Nasuada thought about it- he was. She found the idea of having a constant companion within her mind both comforting and disconcerting.

"Very well. One piece of information Lady Leona has given us I would like to follow up on. She has given me details regarding slave traders that operate half a day's ride north of Feinster. Apparently they have a stronghold of sorts there which is their base of operations. They capture slaves from the south of the empire that are to later be transported to the larger cities of Dras Leona and Uru'baen. Besides the fact that if what Lady Leona says is true we will have to encounter these traders on our way north, the idea of our countrymen and women being forced into slavery is…" Lady Nasuada glanced briefly at Eragon to see he had been paying absolute attention to her recent topic. She knew his views on Slavers. "…Either way I believe it would be better to strike before they have the option of retaliation or worse, have the opportunity to send word to Uru'baen. Roran, I am sending you and your men as well as a contingent of Horsemen and pike men to the given area to find this stronghold. The difficulty is that we have very few details of what will await you when you arrive."

King Orrin spoke up. "Nasuada, are we sure Lady Leona is not lying. Surely she must know more of these Slavers… they live so close to her city."

"I have considered that Orrin, but I have had the elves search her mind. She knows no more about that topic then what she has told us. Roran, I am giving you control over this operation. When you arrive I want you to assess the situation. If you believe the siege of this stronghold will require reinforcements, I want you to get word back here before you engage. However, if you believe you can succeed, I want you take the stronghold and free whoever you may find. The fate of the slavers themselves I will leave up to you. You will leave at next light"

Eragon's cousin nodded before gesturing towards the door. "Very well Milady. If there is nothing else, I would like permission to see to the preparations as soon as possible. I will have to account for many contingencies…"

"Of course Stronghammer. I believe we all have things to attend to. Meeting adjourned."

Nasuada was prepared to be confronted by a self-righteous elf that had just had her point proven by Eragon's appearance and actions over the past hour. However, she was not prepared for said elf to walk swiftly out the door without a backward glance. Eragon left in a similar manner before Nasuada could ask him to remain.

The rest of the leaders filed out and dispersed to do their respective duties which left the Varden's leader alone once again. However, instead of continuing with the numerous papers that cluttered the desk in front of her, she lent back in her chair and rested her head in her hands. Arya was right. Something had to be done.

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"Eragon! Wait!"

Roran had seen his cousin in a continual state of exhaustion for the last couple of days. The meeting this morning had proven to him that he needed to confront Eragon, especially due to his newest assignment which had him leaving the camp for several days. After seeing his cousin leave almost immediately after the elf Arya, he resolved to follow, finally catching up with Eragon just out side of the citadel walls.

"Eragon, talk to me. I'm your cousin, I know something is bothering you for you to be in such a state."

Eragon opened his mouth but Roran continued on before he could protest.

"No Eragon, it is not nothing. You looked terrible, you obviously have not slept and don't even try to pretend that what just happened in there didn't. Tell me what is bothering you so we can fix this before I go."

Eragon's smile seemed a little strained. "What made you think I was going to say it was nothing…you didn't give me chance to reply."

"Eragon, I'd like to think I know you fairly well. I am your cousin. Are you telling me that's not what you were going to say? Besides, stop changing the subject."

Eragon smiled before staring off in the direction of the ocean. He decided not to answer Roran's second question.

Eragon was silent for long while. Just when Roran started to believe that his cousin would not answer, he spoke up. "Do you remember when I told you about my journey from Carvahall and about my dreams which led to discovering Arya in prison?"

Roran nodded, surprised. His cousin rarely spoke of the elf inside the camp. In fact, the last time he had mentioned her had been on the journey to Helgrind to rescue Katrina. He knew of Eragon's feelings and subsequent rejection but even if he didn't, he would still have realized that something had happened between the beautiful elf and the Dragon Rider. Not that the two were outwardly hostile or awkward towards each other. On the contrary, they seemed civil- friends even. But as Eragon's cousin, and spending their childhood together, Roran could understand the way Eragon's eyes followed Arya whenever she entered a room, the way he was always polite in her presence.

"Since the battle, my dreams have been haunted by visions. The whole scenario is similar. I have tried but I can't seem to shake this." Eragon rubbed his hands over his eyes. "There's something I'm missing. Something I should understand…"

Before Roran could answer, Katrina arrived beside her husband. Her hair was pulled behind her head with a faded piece of ribbon. In her arms, she carried lengths of cloth to be used as bandages within the healing tents. Roran placed his large hand gently around his wife's waist and pulled her close as she greeted Eragon.

"What in the whole of Alagaesia has the two of you looking so troubled? Did your meeting with Lady Nasuada not go well?"

Eragon answered her question before Roran even had a chance to open his mouth. "It is nothing to concern yourself with, Katrina. Roran was simply concerned. I have not been sleeping well. It is of little consequence."

Roran could tell by the look on his wife's face that she knew there was more to the story. She too had grown up with Eragon. Of course, Roran often talked with his wife of his concerns regarding his cousin. Katrina knew that there was more then likely something behind Eragon's behavior of late.

Roran felt Katrina shift and squeeze his side before she smiled at Eragon.

"Well, I hope you manage to get a good nights sleep tonight Eragon. We cannot have our only rider not feeling his best…" She then smirked before glancing over Eragon's right shoulder.

"You should listen to your cousin's wife, Shadeslayer. Her advice would serve you well."

Eragon seemed to pause for a minute second before he turned to face the Elven maiden behind him.

"I shall certainly take both of your advice into account…Shadeslayer." His mouth curved up while he stared at the elf. Roran was surprised to see the normally stoic expression on the elf's face break ever so slightly as her mouth copied Eragon's and curved upwards. Roran was not sure he would call it a smile exactly, but it was definitely a sign of amusement, small though it may have been.

"Please do not feel a need to call me by my apparent newest title. I have no desire to be known as such." The other side of Arya's mouth joined the other. "No matter though, I did not come and interrupt your conversation with your family to remark on our now somewhat… confusing situation. I have not had the opportunity of seeing you fight outside of a battle for a long time now. Would care to spar with me?"

Eragon bowed his head and smiled briefly before raising his head and looking straight at the Elven Princess. "Saphira has decided to go hunting, it seems I may be able spare an hour or two. Unless…"

Eragon turned and glanced at Roran who shook his head. "It's fine Eragon, I must be off now. There is much to do before I leave. Will I see you tomorrow?"

"Of course, I will be there to see you off. Farewell Katrina… Roran."

Eragon smiled warmly at his cousin and his wife before he turned and followed the Elven ambassador behind the tents and towards the field outside the city gates where the Varden had set up a temporary training field.It was certainly an interesting sight to see two such imposing figures make their way through the flocks of men. People could not move fast enough to remove themselves from their path.

"There is something about those two, Roran. Like some inside joke that nobody but them are privy to.. The looks they share- however brief and subtle- almost make me feel like I'm intruding. Was there really some sort of falling out between them?" Katrina asked Roran as she turned in his arms and rested her free hand on his chest.

"All I know is what Eragon's told me and what I've observed. Besides the rare awkward moments and glances, you would not be able to tell from their actions that anything of significance had occurred. Whatever it was that Eragon did seems to have been resolved. Besides, I think romance is the least of Eragon's worries right now."

Katrina looked concerned, her brow creasing ever so slightly. "Why? What is wrong with our cousin Roran? I know he has been out of sorts lately. I have seen the tired eyes and the lapses in concentration. I know something is wrong and I won't push him- neither should you- but what has him so worried?"

Roran glanced back towards the direction his cousin had left, sighed, then turned back to Katrina and began leading her on towards the healing tents.

"I'm not entirely sure my love. But it something he will have to work out on his own, his mind is something only he can fully control. The most we can do is offer support."

"And that we will." Katrina gathered the bandages tighter in her arms and leant further into her husbands embrace.

"Now come my love, I will escort you to the healing tents and then I must get ready for the morning. We will just have to hope Eragon will tame whatever demon is haunting him before it does any real damage."

*** *** ***

**A/N: So there we have it, the first proper chapter. I hope for most of the chapters to be this length or longer, but it will vary obviously depending on the content. I hope you all have enjoyed the story so far and that you look forward to the next chapter…**

**Feel free to review…I'd love to know what was good…or bad :P**


	3. Chapter 2

_Gedwey garjzla_

**Disclaimer:** As redundant as these are... (It is fan fiction) I'll make sure I cover my butt...No copyright breech is intended in the writing of this story. All recognizable plot points, characters etc. belong to Christopher Paolini.

*** *** ***

**Chapter 2:**

*** *** ***

It was not long before a large number of people gathered around the makeshift training fields just outside of the city of Feinster. Many of the Varden remembered well the fight that took place in Farthen Dur when Eragon was first tested. The display of agility, speed and strength was something that had been the subject of much talk and speculation throughout the ranks. Word, it seemed, traveled quickly when so many people lived in such close confines. Now, as Eragon and Arya made their way through the throng of people into the centre of the field, people were restless with excitement and eagerly awaiting the fight that would soon to begin.

Arya barely looked behind her to Eragon as she walked to the far side of the clearing.

"Prepare yourself rider." With that, she pulled a strip of black leather from her wrist and began tying her hair back to keep it off her face. Thanks to his Elvin eyesight, Eragon could see a bead of sweat make its way down Arya's forehead and collect at the base of her neck. Despite being outside the Surdan border, Feinster's weather seemed remarkably similar. While the nights were cool and refreshing, the days could easily become sweltering.

_Little One, the heat is not going to be your ally during this fight. Do what you must to ensure you don't overheat._

Eragon removed his outer vest, paused, and then further removed his tunic, leaving his skin bare to the harsh sun. Years of working in such a form out on the fields of his uncle's farm had turned his skin s golden brown- something that differentiated his looks from the elves he was sometimes confused as being.

Eragon placed his garments beside Saphira's flank as she placed herself in a comfortable position. As he turned around, Brisingr in hand, he noticed Arya turn her head from his direction, slightly changing her line of sight to stare at the men over Eragon's shoulder. Eragon, however, didn't have long to ponder this strange behavior as the Elf moved quickly into the centre of the circle created by their audience, raised her sword, and asked in a clear and firm voice, "Are you ready Rider?"

Eragon nodded and moved closer to Arya, raising his sword in a similar fashion. He felt the area go quiet, everybody afraid now to make any noise. Arya and Eragon locked eyes, both still as stone- neither of them yet willing to yield their ground. Much like their first sword fight in Farthen Dur, and also like Eragon's fights with Brom, time passed differently while neither moved. It was like an altered state of consciousness, a level of focus so deep that the outside world seemed to stop- something akin to the meditation Eragon learnt from Oromis Ebrithil.

It was while in this state of consciousness that Eragon found himself no longer staring at Arya, but at the shadow of a cowering figure in the corner of a dark room. The figure trembled as it lay curled up tight against the stone wall. Hands held close, the person- the woman- seemed to mumble almost silently, her chaffed lips moving ever so slightly.

Her hair knotted all around her face so Eragon couldn't get a clear view of her face. The only movement she seemed to make was the constant trembling that over took her entire body. She began lifting her hand out from where it was cradled against her breast to the front of her face. Eragon could see the shimmer of white bone on her knuckle and the pool of blood that gradually made its way down her arm to the dirt covered floor below…

Eragon felt himself slam back into reality, like the gates of his mind had been forced shut by an unseen force. He felt rather then saw Arya's sword as it cut through the air and it was only be instinct alone that he raised his sword and blocked her swing that would have surely ended his life if he was but a second slower and this was a real battle. With jarring force, the swords met inches from Eragon's head. And so their dance began.

Each and every swing was countered by a block, every thrust sidestepped and returned in kind. Time had little meaning, each movement preceded by another until all that was left was action and reaction. It wasn't long until Eragon felt the sheen of sweat that covered his body gather into thick droplets that fell from his body and made their way to the dirt below. While Arya was mostly covered by her clothing, Eragon could see similar drops make their way down her brow into the collar of her shirt.

Eragon tried not to focus on that thought for too long.

Eragon felt his arms become heavier with every swing. The sheer force behind their blows would have crippled an ordinary solder's sword and Eragon was once again glad that he had returned to Elesmera when he did in order to retrieve a proper weapon.

Eragon's concentration slipped for but a second but it was enough for Arya to take advantage of. The lowering of his arm just the smallest amount left open space enough for Arya to thrust he sword in between Eragon's ribs and end their battle. Eragon, however, was quick to rectify his mistake. He didn't have time to bring his sword up to block Arya's incoming blow without leaving a larger gap which she could take advantage of. So, instead of deflecting the blow, Eragon bent and flipped backwards, his feet landing solidly on a tree branch just above his head before pushing off and flipping back over Arya's head to land a few feet from her. There was no chance to catch her unguarded however- the elf had turned just as quickly as Eragon had and now faced him once again. They both circled, the fight seeming to have ended up just as it had begun.

Instead of waiting, Eragon made the first move and slashed his sword towards Arya's left, changed direction and brought his sword up at the last second. Breaths were coming fast and heavy from both Arya and Eragon as the fight continued. Just as Eragon felt his arms would give out, both swords locked at the cross guards, the force jarring both warriors arms. One movement the wrong way would result in either or both losing their hand. While time throughout the entire fight seemed to slow, time had now stopped completely.

Eragon could see the droplets of sweat gathering in Arya's hair, the glistening of her eyelashes, the quivering of her nostrils as she breathed out heavily from exertion. They were so close they were almost touching. Eragon lifted his eyes and met Arya's. The air seemed to tremble with anticipation around the two as the only movements they made were those of their breathing.

It was eye contact like this that Eragon tended to avoid. He realized how uncomfortable him professing his feeling to Arya had been for the elf and upon reflection had determined to keep them to himself. At a distance, his hard exterior was easy to uphold. This got more difficult however the closer he got. When he looked into her eyes however it was nigh impossible.

_Breathe, Little One_

The shock of air to his system brought with it the scent of pine needles. It also, however, alerted Eragon to his situation. Any movement of his sword would likely result in his fingers being removed from his body. He did however have movement of his legs.

_She'll notice, Eragon…_

"So, what now?" Eragon made sure to look directly at Arya, despite whatever discomfort he may have felt as a result. "How do you propose we get out of this?"

As he spoke, Eragon brought his right leg forward slightly while placing the majority of his weight on his left. He then, slowly so as to not lose his balance or the pressure on his sword, moved his foot between Arya's feet, intent on hooking it around her ankle and causing her to lose her balance. He thought he has succeeded too. He pulled his foot towards himself quickly, bringing himself forward as he followed Arya's body towards to ground. Just as he braced himself for impact, he felt a momentum he didn't prepare for throw him over Arya's shoulders. When he opened his eyes again, Arya was straddling his waist with her sword help tightly at his neck, Brisingr held limply at Eragon's side.

If it wasn't for the exhaustion he felt at that moment, Eragon would have laughed. As it was all he could do was smirk. He guessed it was probably a little presumptuous of him to entertain the fact that he could fool Arya.

Surprisingly, Arya returned his smirk before getting up and offering Eragon her hand. Once they were both standing, Eragon let go of Arya's hand and put his sword back in his belt. Sound returned to his ears and Eragon could hear the cheering coming from their audience. Before anyone could approach, Arya moved closer.

"It has been a long time since I have had to fight like that. Your skills…you have certainly improved since we last fought. If it is agreeable to you, I believe we should continue. It would do you good to practice and I certainly wouldn't mind the challenge. I also know others who would be honored to spar with you."

At the mention of Blodhgarm and the other elves, Eragon smiled and nodded his head.

"I would be honored to spar with you again Arya Svit-Kona…and certainly the other elves. I agree. It would do me well to practice."

Arya smiled slightly once more and bowed her head before turning and leaving the training field. Eragon felt someone patting him roughly on the shoulder. He heard Horst exclaiming that he had never seen such a sight. The only thing he saw however was Arya's retreating form weaving between the sea of bodies as she swiftly moved out of sight.

*** *** ***

The sharp rock digging into Roran's right knee as he kneeled was painful. The wind that moved the leaves above him was cold. Worst of all, the new moon provided such little light that seeing the slaver's fortress clearly was almost impossible.

As well as the conditions, Carn had been having problems ever since they had come into range of the fortress. He would be momentarily overcome with flashes of strange visions. They went so quickly that he had little chance of seeing what the visions entailed and had to resort to throwing up the strongest mental blocks he had when felt an onslaught.

"Sir, the scouts have returned. They say the fortress is protected by three guards on all sides. There appears however to be no other significant protection."

Roran barely turned to the solder, who had crawled over to his hiding place under the patch of bushes, before he answered.

"Lady Nasuada gave me orders to attack if I deemed it possible to succeed. I believe it is. Get the men ready. I want archers in those trees ready to take out each of the guards simultaneously. We cannot give them time to alert everybody else. We will then advance. Alert Carn, I want to see him now."

The solder moved silently away from Roran back into the bushes. It had taken almost the whole day to travel from the Varden's camp to the slavers stronghold. In fact. Roran was surprised just how easily they were able to discover the location. There was a part of him that had not trusted Lady Leona's word. He had expected an ambush, or at least some sort of delay. But the lady's directions had led them straight to the slavers location.

The fortress seemed well protected- rigid stone walls rose twice a man's height and each of the tree exposed side were guarded by three men. The fourth side backed onto a cliff face which rendered the north side of the fortress unreachable. As Roran looked through the shrubs towards the stronghold, he could see the flickering lights or fire-torches against the stone. If he strained his ears he could just make out the sounds of men talking. What chilled him more then the wind however was the sporadic faint screams he could make out above all the other sounds.

Suddenly, a twig snapped and leaves rustled to Roran's left. Roran quickly drew the knife out of his boot and brought it in front of him, about to grab the attacker, when Cain's whisper pierced through the air.

"Roran, it's me."

Roran breathed out heavily the air he didn't even realize he had been holding. He whispered harshly while he put the blade back into his boot. "Blazes Carn, I could have killed you. What the hell happened?"

Roran could barely make out Carn's figure in the dark. He did however feel him crouch down beside him.

"These visions are getting worst. I'm doing my best to block them but… they're… intense. Something is going on in there Roran. Something is not right."

Roran knew Carn was not the strongest magician the Varden had. He did however trust the man. After all, Carn had seen Roran through many of his campaigns with the Varden. They respected each other and their relevant positions. That was one of the reasons Roran would want no other magician beside him- except maybe Eragon.

The problem however was that these visions- and whoever was causing them- were pushing through Carn's mental barriers. If the person responsible was another magic user then there was a very large chance that that person would overcome Carn in battle. Roran's men would then be exposed with no means of magical protection.

"Carn, I need to know. Can we go in tonight? Physically, I believe we can take it. But if these visions are caused by some power greater the your own, then I can't risk it. I need to know Carn."

Carn breathed in slowly before answering. "Roran, if I thought that there was a stronger magician then I in there then I would tell us to turn around right now. But these visions, they're not…they're intrusion as such. When someone is trying to break through any type of mental defences, there is usually a goal in mind- submission, control. However, these are different. They're…its like when some one yells. They can raise their voice to drown out another noise or voice, they can raise it because they are angry and making a point. But one can also raise their voice voluntarily, such as scream, cries of pain or exclamation. They are not intentional, but merely a result of extreme emotion or situation. These visions are much the same. Yes, they are- at times- passing my mental blocks but not because they intend to. It is more like some is just yelling very, very loudly. All I can gather are vague impressions- pain, darkness, flickering lights, fear. It feels, more then anything, like a cry for help."

Having felt his cousin attempting to intrude his own mind, Roran could relate to the feeling of a mental intrusion. What Carn was describing however was much different.

"Roran, if we turn around and retreat until more troops arrive; we run the risk of the slavers detecting our movements. It is also a waste of significant time and resources. I all honesty, I believe we can do this."

Roran paused briefly then nodded, his mind made up. "Alright Carn, I want you to take the left entrance with a third of the men. Once the archers have taken out the guards, make your way into the fortress. I want you in contact with me so we can all the guards at the same time. Jord will be leading the other side so he will have to be in contact as well. Our aim is to subdue these scum, but if they cause you grief, don't hesitate to kill them. If you come across prisoners, we need to get them out of the fortress once we have the stronghold secured. Go."

Roran moved into position, his third of the troops behind him hidden under the shrub and three of his archers high in the trees. It wasn't long before he felt Carn's presence on the fringes of his mind.

_Now!_

"Fire!" Roran whispered sharply to his archers and three arrows were sent rocketing towards the guards standing by the southern entrance. By some miracle, all three hit their mark and the guards fell dead before they even had a chance to make a sound of warning.

_West and East are down, proceed on your call._

Roran sent the word and his men advanced on the fortress. He was prepared for the coming fight, but something nagged at Roran's mind. _That should not have been so easy._

_*** *** ***_

The Slavers, it seemed were determined not to come quietly. Once his men had entered the stronghold, they had been engaged with rough looking men who had short swords and even shorter tempers. Their screams of anger echoed off the stone halls but were quickly cut short by a blade or arrow. They may have been in a rage, but they were not solders, and as such, the Varden's warriors were quick to take care of them.

Roran had just ducked a sword when he again felt Carn's presence in his mind.

_We have cleared the west side but it seems that a fair few of the slavers have barricaded themselves in the central hall. It seems to have access from all sides so we should be able to force our way in._

Roran swung hard at the man he was fighting, the shear force with which he did so enough to end the man's life. The slavers they had so far encounted were all dead or fleeing so Roran called his men to him and made his way to the central hall- guided by Carn's directions.

"Get this door down!"

The Varden's solders scurried to obey Roran's orders, a wooden pillar that had fallen in the battle quickly picked up and repeatedly thrown against the door. Between the deep pounding made by the door and the sounds of his men, Roran could still hear the screams he had heard earlier. A woman's scream and it was coming from somewhere inside the room that were currently trying to get into.

His men, it seemed could now hear it too, as they doubled their efforts on the door. The wood had begun to splinter and Roran knew it would not last more then another strike of the pillar. True to form, the door shattered completely upon the next strike and Roran and his men entered the room, expecting to engage in battle only to find the room silent once more.

The room was very large. Its roof was higher then most of the others in the fortress and the stone walls lit up by numerous fire-torches that caste flickering shadows over the long tables throughout the room. The walls were covered with hanging tapestries, crude as they may have been, that fell all the way from ceiling to floor. The only sound audible was the footsteps and breathing of the Varden as the all made their way into the room.

Suddenly, a piercing scream broke through the silence. At the same time, each tapestry was thrown aside as men ran from behind them and charged at the Varden. As Roran gutted one man who had engaged him, he was able to make out about twenty slavers. He couldn't understand why they would insist on fighting when they were so obviously outnumbered with no chance of victory.

Another scream broke through the sounds of battle and Roran forced his way towards the sound. As he made his way towards a hallway on the Northern wall, Roran found Carn leading his men through the western entrance.

"Carn, bring your men to me!" Roran yelled across the room as he made his way towards the hallway. The screams continued.

Roran could see Carn and his men right behind him. However, as soon they entered the hallway, Carn doubled over, holding head in his hands and groaning in pain. Moments later, Roran's vision was overcome as his head was filled with rushing images and sounds.

_The woman with red hair in front of her sneered, her teeth gritted as she gripped her face with increasing strength…_

_Her feet felt so heavy as she was pulled harshly through the mud, her hands bound in front of her and her eyes filled with the blood that leaked from her brow…_

_The sting of the whip on her back caused her to cry out in pain, her already bruised and batter skin tearing open…_

Roran gritted his teeth as the visions became even more erratic as another scream echoed in his ears.

_The man at the door of the room grinned at her, his teeth yellow and this tunic filthy with grease and mud, as he walked towards her undoing his pants…_

_The little girl ran through the field, laughing until she tripped and fell on a stone…_

_She could hear the screams of her mother in the next room along with the grunts of men in the throes of passion…_

_She could see the body of her little sister asleep in her cot, her eyelids fluttering gently with her dreams…_

_That body turned into the bloody and crumpled heap that laid at her feet, the cruel woman with red hair standing and her hands dripping of blood…_

Roran felt sick to his stomach as the visions filled his head. He could still hear the screams in his ears as he forced his feet to steady beneath him. Step by step, one foot in front of another, he forced his way to the barred door at the end of the hall where the screams got louder. Try as he might, he couldn't block these images. Not only were his mental barriers not strong enough, but he understood exactly what Carn had meant. Rather then an intrusion, these visions seemed more like cried for help.

It took everything he had, but Roran brought up his leg and kick out at the door. The recoil felt like it had shattered his leg. The door didn't move.

"Carn! I need you here!" Roran could feel more visions clouding his mind as he called for the magician. He could only imagine how hard they were for someone who actually had telepathic abilities. Roran could see Carn drag himself up and stumble towards him, leaving the men at the entrance all crouched on the ground with their hands covering their ears.

"Roran, I…" Roran interrupted him.

"Carn I need you to focus on this door, unlock it. There has to be a magician behind that door. I can't open it."

Carn's face turned ashen with the thought as he looked at the door. If Roran was honest with himself, he could see Carn was just about exhausted. That was something Roran couldn't help however.

Carn closed his eyes and Roran could see his mouth move as he uttered a spell to unlock the door. Images continued to flash through their minds at a faster rate until all of a sudden, the images and stopped as Roran heard the screaming turn into a cry of exertion followed by a thud as a body hit the ground. What ever it was that was holding the door locked faulted for but a moment and Carn stumbled as her finished his spell. Roran then brought his leg up again and kicked it at the door. This time, the door flew open and Roran rushed inside. The sight that greeted him was one he had only seen during his most horrifying nightmares about Katrina in Helgrind.

The room was almost pitch black except for the very little moonlight that was provided by the hole of a window in the wall near the roof. The stones seemed stained in dirt and, as Roran suspected, blood. On the floor was a woman with flaming red hair, her face in her head as she rose. And in the centre of the room, her hands tied high above her head, her face lowered and covered with her dark hair and her body covered in blood, dirt and little else was a young woman.

The woman with red hair glowered at Roran then raised her hand from her face and pointed it at the young woman.

"NO!"

"Bind and barricade her from touch." (In ancient language)

As Roran moved towards the woman, she threw her hand down in front of her. The room then erupted in light and smoke, chocking Roran and causing him to close his eyes. He could hear coughing from his men who had made their way to the door. When Roran found he could once again open his eyes, the woman with red hair was gone, some of the men at the door forced onto the floor as she ran through the smoke and out the room.

"After her, I want her alive!"

Several of his men began chase down the hall way while Roran turned back to face the woman.

While there he knew he was on a mission, and that this woman was just another prisoner, he felt somewhat uncomfortable. Despite the shape she was in, and the wounds that covered most of her body, Roran could see she would normally be a very beautiful woman. Her ordeal was even more obvious as she was covered with not a thread of clothing. If for nothing else but the sake of her modesty, he needed to get her down.

"Carn, what did she do to her?"

Carn closed his eyes for a moment before he answered.

"I can't…I can't sense her. There must be a barrier of some sort around her."

Roran approached slowly and lifted his hand towards the woman. When he came within a hand span, his hand was stopped in mid air. He couldn't touch her. He tried again only to receive the same results. The barrier seemed similar to what Carn and other magicians used in battle to protect them selves for attack but what the purpose was in this instance, Roran couldn't guess. He looked over to his solders at the door, all of who seemed to have the decency to avert their eyes from the woman's form.

"You, get me a blanket. The rest of you, get in here, we need to carry her out."

The men hurried to obey his orders. Roran pulled his knife out from his boot and reached to the rope holding the woman to the ceiling. Thankfully, the rope did not seem to be under the same spell as the woman and Roran was able to cut through it easily. His men then caught the woman before her dead weight hit the ground. If the moment wasn't so morbid, the men's faces would have almost been laughable. The barrier prevented them from actually touching the woman but they could still 'hold' her at a hand span. The effect made it seem as if the men were levitating her above their hands. In fact, it was almost a little frightening.

When the man returned with a blanket, Roran folded it around the woman, even it not coming in contact with her skin. It wouldn't keep her warm but at least it would give her a little bit of dignity.

The woman seemed to be unconscious, but Roran couldn't be sure if it was that or if the sorceress had woven some spell over her.

"Carn, stay with them, heal what you can for her and make sure they take her back to where we camped. I will meet you back there."

Roran knew he could trust Carn to ensure the woman was taken care of the best she could be until they got back to the Varden and he knew he had a responsibility as a commander to ensure the rest of his men were safe. Making his way back to the main hall, he found Jord, his second in command standing before a group of men who were kneeling and bound being guarded by a number of solders.

"Jord give me an update."

Jord nodded, looked over at the men kneeling in the centre of the room and begun his report. "Minimal casualty's sir, seven of our men received significant injuries but they are all being treated as we speak. We seemed to have managed very well. The men here surrended once they came to their damn senses but are now refusing to speak. We bound them all. I also have men searching the stronghold for prisoners. At last count, twenty-four men, nineteen women and eleven children have been found. They all are in fair enough shape, considering the environment they have been in. The youngest is only three months; its mother seems to have given birth while in captivity. They are all being taken back to the camp. The men…"

Jord stopped as another man nodded briefly to both men. "Sorry to interrupt sir, but there is a little girl we have found who is hysterical crying about a woman who is supposed to be held here. She said something about them hurting her and…"

"Where is she soldier?"

The soldier pointed over his shoulder to one of the open doors. Roran turned to Jord. "Get the rest of the prisoners out and back to the camp as soon as possible. Gather these men," he pointed to the slavers kneeling in the centre of the room, "and take them back also. We will take them back with us to the Varden to receive trial."

With that he turned towards where the solder had pointed and made his way towards the little girl who was being held securely in the arms of one of the Varden's solders.

"We found this one sir down with the others. She…"

"They's took her. They's hurt her. She was always sore. They's always hurt her. I don't…I don't knows where shes is."

Roran bent sown slightly so he was on the same level as the girl and talked in a calm voice.

"Little one, we found a woman. She was hurt, but we are going to take care of her. Did she have long dark hair?"

The little girl nodded vigorously. "Yes, yes, pretty long dark hair. Is she going to be ok?"

Roran smiled and nodded as the girl seemed to calm considerably.

"Aurora was so nice to me. Can I see her?"

Roran stiffened.

Aurora. _Surely not. I would have recognized her. _Roran heard the solder holding the girl tell her she could see her shortly after they were all safe but Roran had already started walking back towards the dark hallway. As he did, one of the visions he saw came to the front of his mind.

_The little girl ran through the field, laughing until she tripped and fell on a stone…_

Memories of a little girl back in Carvahall over took the image. The field looked identical, but Roran didn't see the girl fall, he had come afterwards, trying to find where Eragon had gone so they could continue their game. He had found his cousin crouching down besides a little girl who had tears in her eyes.

"_What have you done Eragon? How'd you make her cry?"_

His cousin had looked up from the girls bleeding knee and scowled at his cousin. "I didn't do anything Roran, she fell."

Roran distinctly remembered the day that Eragon and himself had met Aurora as it seemed that from that day onwards until she moved with her family when they were fourteen that she was always around. Her hair had been a light brown that day and only came down to her shoulders but as she grew older, it turned a darker shade and went al the way down her waist.

He found the woman still in the room with Carn leaning over her. He was sweating with the effort he was putting into attempting to heal her, but Roran could see he had not gotten very far. Carn rose to a sitting position when he saw Roran enter the room.

"I'm sorry Roran. The barrier seems to also exclude magical interference. I can't heal her. We will have to hurry back to the Varden. I can't get through this barrier."

Roran almost didn't hear him as he approached the woman. Kneeling down, he started to move the blanket that was covering her body.

"Roran, what are you…"

Keeping the blanket covering most of her body, Roran brought his face closer to her hip. There beneath the numerous bruises, cuts and blood, Roran could just make out a faint brown mark. A mark the shape of a half moon.

*** *** ***

"_Guys, it's just skin. I've seen you without your shirts on. What's the difference?"_

_Aurora still continued removing the top of her dress despite the boy's vocalizations otherwise. They had been playing in the fields behind Roran and Eragon's farm when Aurora had run into the edge of one of the gates where the metal latch locked. It had torn the dress just above her hip and the skin underneath. She had wanted the boys to check and see how badly she had hurt herself but they had closed their eyes as soon she had started removing the top of her dress. Even as little boys they had been taught better then that._

_It wasn't until Eragon and Roran heard Aurora start to cry that they turned around._

"_Aurora, what's wrong?"_

_Aurora looked up at them through teary eyes, her dress held tightly in her hands. "My side hurts. Please just look at it."_

_Eragon and Roran looked at each other worriedly before the both crouched down and looked at the cut on Aurora's side. Luckily, it seemed very superficial but it had bled a little bit and Eragon had used his sleeve to wipe away the small drop of blood that had gathered on the side. That was when they noticed a small brown mark near the cut._

"_Aurora, what is that brown thing on you side? It's a funny shape?"_

_Aurora giggled a little as she turned as much as the sore would allow her "It's a birth mark silly. You would have one too."_

_Roran knew his was on his thigh as he had seen it when he bathed but he had assumed that everybody's was there. Weren't they all the same?_

_Roran just nodded and looked a little closer as Eragon traced the mark with his finger tips. It was the shape of a half moon._

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**A/N: Hello again. I'm so pleased with the responses I got to the first two chapters. There was one reviewer, who I couldn't email back about their great review- ****La zostères. Thanks for your kind words and your constructive criticism. I have gone back over and changed the mistakes in Arya's name (Ayra…gosh that was dumb!). As for the grammatical errors you mentioned, I fixed what I noticed but I find that my writing style is a little conversational...meaning I write it how I would say it sometimes. Feel free to mention any errors specifically because chances are I haven't noticed them! Also, in regards to Katrina's point of view…my apologies. I did not realize it was in Katrina's point of view. If you read over it, I think you'll find that it is in Roran's POV at the beginning of that scene. I don't think I changed it, unless I have a word wrong that implies otherwise. I would love to know what I did to give you that impression.**

**Thanks again, I hope you enjoy the story and that I hear from you again.**

**Back to the rest of the group…I'm so glad you all seemed to enjoy the story and that so many people added my story to their alerts and favorites. I would love to hear from everyone who reads my story so don't be afraid to reply...even if it's only a word or two!**

**I'd just like to also say a couple of things about me as an author: I am an Arya and Eragon shipper and I don't like stories have Original Characters just for the sake of it. Any OC's I have in my story will have a role to play that is essential to the story. While it may seem at times like they have large roles, they don't really as they will most likely not be there for the whole story.**

**Melcangel 0:)**


	4. Chapter 3

_Gedwey garjzla_

**Disclaimer:** As redundant as these are... (It is fan fiction) I'll make sure I cover my butt...No copyright breech is intended in the writing of this story. All recognizable plot points, characters etc. belong to Christopher Paolini.

**I know, I know, it's been AGES! All I can do is apologize and give you a very long chapter as compensation. Uni was hectic, especially with exams but Christmas and New Year are finally over and I have time off. I plan to get as many chapters up as possible. I hope this chapter works… It gave me a hell of a lot of trouble. I couldn't seem to find the right words. At first, it seemed like a filler but then I realized there were crumbs I could drop for you to follow until the drama begins to kick in at the end of the chapter…Hopefully you won't have to wait too long for the next update…;P**

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**Chapter 3:**

The sun had sunk far below the horizon when Eragon was finally released from Nasuada's quarters. After Roran's departure that morning, Nasuada had begun plans on the Varden's next move. Pending Roran's findings at the slavers stronghold, the Varden would soon move north towards Belatona. On the best of days, Eragon had little patience for the intricacies of politics. Unfortunately, on little sleep, his patience was on a much shorter tether then normal. There were times when the only thing that stopped him voicing his opinions on the redundancy of such meetings was Saphira's voice in his mind reminding him to keep the peace.

To worsen his mood Trianna seemed to be shadowing his movements of late. When they were called to Nasuada's quarters, she was always conveniently waiting for his arrival. More then once Eragon had to politely put up with her incessant chatter and less then subtle sexual overtures as they made their way to the citadel. He was finding that there was a limit to how many different ways he could deflect a women's advancements without alienating her, and he was quickly reaching it. Even Saphira's offer of eating the witch for her next meal was starting to sound plausible to Eragon's ears. Somehow he doubted though that Nasuada would appreciate his reasoning, especially when said witch was the primary means by which the Varden was currently economically stable.

Tonight, however, he had been able to slip away unseen and the solitude was welcome. Of course, as a rider, his dragon was always with him. Even when their connection was blocked Eragon far from found her presence an intrusion. To some extent, he could imagine the horror Gladr had experienced by losing the one closest to you. The ever present sense of belonging and acceptance calmed him when nothing else could. Even now, with Saphira flying a fair distance off, Eragon could feel her as if she were right beside him. She understood his need for physical solitude and her presence receded to the barriers of his mind, standing mental guard over him as he attempted to process all that had happened lately.

Unlike normal, Eragon made his way through the quiet city streets towards the outer walls. For the last several nights, he had viewed the ocean from afar. Tonight, he decided to clear his mind beside the soft falls of water before attempting any rest. Why waste time tossing and turning to only be up again later?

Just as he silently landed over the other side of the wall, Eragon sensed the faintest movement back from the direction which he came. Frozen, he awaited, only to feel the faintest of whispers brush across his mind. The ethereal presence loosened his muscles- Blodgarm it seemed was determined to do his duty in keeping Eragon alive.

Placated, he turned South-west. Thrilled by the thought of being able to run again, Eragon set off; his pace much faster then any human could match. Soon, his boots fell upon soft sand and his nose breathed in sea salt. Living east of the spine as a child, Eragon had not seen the sea. He could see some of the fascination that it held for the elves. Sitting cross-legged, Eragon breathed deep and closed his eyes. Akin to what his masters taught him back in Elesmera, he cleared his mind of all present thoughts until he could bring a single one forward at will. When he had first mastered the art back in the eleven forests, he found it helpful in processing his thoughts on nights where his brain rattled with every piece of information and fact he had learned earlier that day. Now, instead of categorizing facts, he was attempting to make sense of his most recent haunting visions.

With his eyes closed, breathing deeply, it wasn't long before Eragon brought up the image of Tenga's hut. The line between those memories and dreams were considerably blurred. The scrolls rustled under the heavy wind blowing through the open window but try as he might, Eragon could not see the words. Hours of meditating rendered him almost nowhere- except for the odd letter or two, the meaning of the scrolls contents remained elusive. The girl however continued to haunt him. Despite his inability to draw upon her face, there was an ever present sense of familiarity. It didn't help that the images he brought up only reminded him of Arya and the dreams he had of her while she was imprisoned in Gilead. Those were images he would prefer never to dwell upon again, if only to save himself the regret of not getting to her sooner, and yet he was forced to relive similar scenarios night after night in his dreams. Even then, the daylight was not safe. His consciousness had suffered from intrusions at the most inopportune moments. The visions it seemed were no longer restricted to his unconscious hours, but at anytime his mind was vulnerable or calm…

_Dark hair sprawled across her back, matted with blood and sweat. Her body rose and fell with each labored breath and her arms trembled with the effort of attempting to move. The moment her arms were locked, a deep crack echoed throughout the room. Coughing, the woman, collapsed hard on the filthy stone floor. As blood found its way out of her damaged lungs onto the floor; she moved her hand slowly to her side. Under the mass of broken and bloodied flesh, white bone could be seen shimmering periodically in the elusive moonlight. Her head rose minutely and Eragon glimpsed a flash of crystal blue as her eyes faced the window…_

_Green eyes stared at him from across the room. Delirious and exhausted, she bowed under the pressure of her heavy breathing before falling unconscious in the corner. The chains held her down in the cold hard cell. He could make out a drip of fluid fall from her limp hand; crimson beads gathered on the stone beneath…_

_Her feet slipped precariously on the wet stone beneath her. The accumulation of blood and water within the room made trying to stand a difficult process. It didn't seem to matter however. The arms that held her hard against the wall crushed her, keeping her upright by their own power. Another hand pushed her head against the cold stone wall. The putrid breath of its owner soon followed with chilling proximity, whispering harshly in her ear. "Try it this time bitch. There's no way you're getting out of this now. Go on, take a swing…" No matter how hard she tried, her body was held down forcefully. She closed her eyes tight as she heard the rustle of clothing behind her and the drop of heavy fabric on the stone…_

_The wind rushed through the open pages, turning them one after the other. Words flashed by in an incoherent rush of ink. Faster and faster…_

…_move…_

_The chains were heavy on her wrist as they dragged her through the halls to her next prison. Those who they passed bowed their heads and continued their work, afraid of the punishment if they were caught staring openly at the woman they knew was tortured nightly. Just as they pulled her to a halt before a wooden door, a little voice cried out behind her. "No, please don't hurts her…she's so nice…please no!" The last image she saw before she was left alone once again in the dark was of a little girl being pulled back by an older man with tears running down her face…_

…_move now…_

_The hermit moved quickly around the room, his movements erratic and uncoordinated. His mouth moved just as quickly as his arms. "Blasted Mountains!!!...Why six??"_

…_behind you…_

_Crystal blue eyes flashed emerald green before they blinked heavily and dark hair covered her face…_

…_look…_

_Dragons of all colours flew over head, the sky bright as the sun glistened off their scales…_

…_now…_

_The knife swung above his head as the woman wielding it laughed with glee. Green eyes flashed…_

…_move….NOW!_

His mind slammed shut with the sound of silent thunder. Instantaneously, Eragon gripped the hilt of Brisingr and drew his sword, simultaneously turning behind him. His sword met steel with jarring force. Quiet reigned in those moments before sound seemed to return to his world. Glancing at his adversary, Eragon settled and withdrew his sword.

"Your reflexes are quick Shadeslayer. Though I shouldn't have even managed to get that close to you…"

Eragon sheathed his sword as he stood, somewhat shakily, on his feet.

"Arya-Svit Kona. I apologize for my unawareness. I was, preoccupied, but that is little excuse."

Arya's eyebrow quivered upwards slightly as she sheathed her sword. Behind her, Eragon could see Blodgharm and several of his other Elvin guards standing unnaturally still in the evening breeze. Upon realizing that Eragon had seen them, they moved swiftly onto the beach.

"Eragon, I have to ask. Were you alone out here?" Such an unexpected question caught Eragon off guard. Seeing his surprise, Arya explained.

"Blodgharm knew you left the city and followed at a distance as to provide you with protection and assistance if something were to happen. He felt…a tremor I believe would be the closest word, and alerted me to the disturbance. When I arrived, you were deadly still, surrounded a crystal blue hue the colour of an ocean swell. It has now obviously disappeared, but only once I had your attention. Are you well?"

Eragon inwardly sighed. His physical exhaustion continually took its toll and after whatever had just occurred, he felt further drain on his already limited reserves. He could not, however, account for the phenomenon that Arya described. He was little better then conscious throughout the entire event and knew he would not be capable of giving the elves any answer that would satisfy them.

Blodhgarm's face, which normally showed a passive intrigue of the world around him, faulted before he spoke. "We are in tune to the subtle whims of nature Argetlam. With the quiet of the night upon us, we hear that much more. We felt…unease. This is not unusual now-a-days with the world overcome with war and suffering, but in regards to you, we were not complacent. It is true I did not want to disturb you Argetlam. But I felt your presence more strongly then I ever had. At first I believed you had managed to discover my exact whereabouts and were standing right behind me, but then your presence wavered precariously. It was…distorted, fragmented. I alerted Arya Svit-kona and we followed the feeling here."

"Well Blodgharm. There is no need to fear. I doubt I would be able to sneak up on either you or your kin. As for these…disturbances…you described, I have little insight to give. I was simply meditating and talking with Saphira. I can assure you nothing is amiss." Eragon glanced at Arya with a slight smirk. He needed to detour this conversation. "Although, I guess if what you say is true I am surprised you felt that this was the most appropriate time to give me a sparring lesson Arya Svit-Kona."

Arya's eyebrow rose more fluidly then before. While she generally looked unimpressed by his attempt of humor, Eragon could see the corner of her mouth quivering the tiniest bit as if she were repressing the smallest of smiles.

"Despite what you may be thinking Eragon, I did not have my sword drawn in order to teach you a lesson, but rather as protection. From the details Blodhgarm gave me on my way here I had few guesses as to what could have been occurring. If not for my training I would have been caught considerably off guard with your reflexes. My weapon was not actually raised in attack."

Eragon attempted to contain his surprise. He distinctly remembered something telling him he had to move, but he could remember little more then that. What instincts could have been triggered if he were really not in danger? He glanced between Arya and Blodhgarm.

"I was jesting Arya, never fear." Eragon thought it would be prudent to change the subject. "Speaking of sparring, I was planning to do some archery practice tomorrow morning at dawn but I would of course welcome to a sparring partner."

Arya answered. "I will be with several of Orrin's guards around that time. Nasuada has asked I arrange a more effective guard around the Surdan king so that some of the men he has doing redundant work may be utilized elsewhere. However I am sure Blodhgarm and the others would be honored Shadeslayer."

Blodhgarm stepped forward, his sword now safe back in its scabbard. "It seems your senses are indeed as good as ours. I didn't believe you would hear us as you had not shown any awareness of our presence. It is of little concern however, there is always room to improve, even for the most skilled of us all. I confess I am intrigued to see how far you have progressed during your training."

Eragon nodded once then bent to retrieve his outer vest which he had removed when he had first sat down. "Then I look forward to the morning. However I believe it is getting rather late. I promised Saphira I would wait for her return from her hunt, which will not be long and then I believe I should retire." He looked to the elves standing slightly behind Arya. "I will see you all in the morning."

Eragon smiled at elves who bowed their heads slightly and begun to move silently back through the trees. He in turn spun toward the water, intent on splashing water on his face. He still felt somewhat disorientated but hoped that it would quickly pass. As he knelt, he sensed more then felt Saphira flying overhead then land not far from him the edge of the water. Her tail moved swiftly through the water, creating waves that rocked the once almost still surface. However, raising his head from the water's surface, droplets running down his brow and neck, Eragon smelt pine forests and knew exactly which one of the elves had not retreated with the rest.

_She is concerned Eragon- as am I. I could see what you saw but it did not grip me as it did you. I am becoming more and more worried little one. I have let this pass because you asked me too but this cannot go on much longer._

Eragon exhaled and closed his eyes. The rational part of his mind knew he had to do something. He could not continue on so little sleep nor could he ignore what was happening. There was still a small, irrational part of him that wanted nothing more then to run right this second from the conversation he knew was about to begin.

"What exactly is it that is bothering you Eragon, something that you were unable to share with the rest who were concerned about you." Arya's voice sounded softer, quieter then earlier in front of the other elves. Once, Eragon would foolishly hope that it was a sign of her affections changing. Those times however had passed and Eragon had become very apt at blocking thoughts such a those.

"What exactly is it that made you believe that there is something that is concerning me, Arya Svit-Kona?"

"Perhaps the fact that you are tense, rigid and your muscles haven't relaxed even though you said that you were meditating. You also mentioned waiting for Saphira to return from hunting. I happen to be aware of the fact that she hunted earlier today and was waiting close by for you."

Eragon turned towards the elf, aware of the fact he had been so easily caught out. "How would you know that?"

"When I was on my way to you, I tried contacting you but, as Blodhgarm said, your presence was distorted. I then attempted to contact Saphira and she informed me where you were. Eragon, what is it that you are hiding from me?"

The urge to reveal his troubles was almost overwhelming.

_You should tell her Eragon. Do you not trust her? _Saphira's voice was soft in his mind.

_I trust her with my life Saphira, you know this. I just…I don't know what to… I can't even articulate this to you. How on earth am I supposed to do so for her?_

Saphira laughed inside his mind. _Lucky for you, Little One, you will never have to articulate anything for me. I can see, hear and feel everything you do and I know how this is affecting you. Arya however does not have that luxury. I will help you all that I can but she cannot help you if you do not communicate._

Eragon's head moved in unperceivable nod as her turned once again to face the wide expanse of water in front of him.

Eragon could hear Arya behind him sigh and turn almost silently to move off.

"Arya."

Turned still to the ocean, he could feel her every movement. Every turn of her body drifted her scent around him. He knew she had stopped and turned back to him. He found however that he could not look at her yet.

"Do you remember our conversation in Tronjheim after my trial by arms? I told you I had visions of you in my dreams. That I could scry you later on. You haunted my sleeping hours for a long time before I was captured. That is how I found you in Gil'ead. That is how I knew you needed my help."

Eragon turned back to Arya to see that her face had softened and she nodded when they made eye contact.

"Someone else now needs my help."

Arya's eyebrows creased. She looked troubled by what he had admitted. "You are having visions? Do you know who they are of?"

Eragon shook his head. "Pain, suffering, torture now haunt my sleeping hours. More then that, these visions can come upon me during my waking hours also. I have tried stopping them, blocking my mind. I have even tried keeping it continually closed while Saphira guards my thoughts and it all seems to add to nothing. She still somehow manages to reach through my barriers. Worse is that they don't even feel like intentional intrusions. The closest I have ever felt to this was my visions of you in Gil'ead. They are loud though, like someone is yelling at me from a close range…"

Arya took a step closer. "She?"

Eragon nodded as he answered. "I have yet to see her face. There is such a large part of me that knows that if I could just see her face I would know her. The familiarity teases me. The knowledge is so close yet so far from my reach. That is not all though. They are fragmented, disrupted. I see irrelevant things that I can make no sense of then my thoughts return to the woman."

"Tell me Eragon. Tell me of these dreams. I will try to help all I can, but I need to know what you saw."

Cringing at the thought of verbalizing his nightmares, Eragon knew that if he wanted Arya's help, there was only one way which he could share this with her.

"I can't tell you." Just as Arya was about to protest, Eragon continued. "But I can show you."

For the next several minutes, Eragon and Arya sat with their knees touching, face-to-face, as he showed her his visions of the past week. He showed her the woman hunched in her cell, crystal eyes flashing emerald green before closing tightly under the weight of excruciating pain. He showed he the little girl crying as she was taken away from the closing door. He even showed her his visions of Tenga's hut and the swirling pages that were indecipherable to his eyes. Once he had reached the end and finally had no more to show her, he blinked, breaking the connection and closed his mind once again. Arya was in front of him for barely a second before she rose, turning her back as she went, and stood but a little way off with her hands on her hips and her head bowed.

Silence reigned as both the elf and the rider reflected on their thoughts. He hadn't moved for several minutes yet his breathing was coming as if he had run a hundred miles. He could see Arya's back rising and falling rapidly from where he still sat and yet he could think of nothing to say.

_I shouldn't have showed her Saphira. Those visions are not so far off some off her own experiences. She shouldn't have to be reminded of that time no matter the troubles I am having._

_It is because of those experiences that she may be of assistance Eragon. I know that you don't want to cause her any more pain then necessary. I too would never want to harm her but this has gone on long enough. We are out of options._

Eragon looked from his Dragon to the elf in front of him. She took a breath and turned to him, and he could only think of two words to reply to the veiled sorrow he saw on her face.

"I'm sorry."

Arya shook her head. "You shouldn't apologize for something you cannot control Eragon. I was simply…remembering."

"That was what I was apologizing for Arya. You shouldn't have had to relive that."

Arya tilted her head and stared at him. "Memories are valuable Eragon, no matter how traumatic the experience. From them we learn, reflect and grow. No matter what pain these memories may hold for me, I could not in good conscience give them up. I need to remember so that I will never again repeat the same mistakes. Would you be able to give up your memories Eragon? The memories of the pain from Durza's scar? Your uncle's death? Murtagh's betrayal?"

Eragon knew she was correct. While all those memories cause him distress, he had learned things from them that were too important to forget. He shook his head at the elf before asking her about what had brought them to this topic in the first place.

"I've tried stopping these visions. I have never been this focused on my mental barriers since I learned how to protect my mind, not without a direct threat. I can't sleep. My body is starting to protest. I can barely keep my eyes open during meetings, and yet when I do lay down to rest, I barely get to sleep before I am plagued by these visions. I hadn't dreamt since I gained Elvin characteristics. I was always in this place between half-sleeping and half-waking. I didn't think elves dreamt Arya. Should this even be happening?"

"I do not have all the answers Eragon. These are puzzling me as much as they are you. I will continue to think on them and try to come up with a solution. However, before we can even begin to hope to rectify this situation, we have to get you resting. It has been noticed by a few that you are not as well as you should be. This cannot continue. However, if Saphira has tried guarding your mind, there is little I can hope to do from that area. I can, however, think of one thing that may give you a brief respite, even if it is only temporary. As is common practice, I brought various supplies from Du Weldenvarden before I left. I believe they included some dried root from the Dreaming Pines. If I can prepare it, it should give you a few hours of rest. Your mind should be too occupied with its visions for any others to disturb you. Of course I cannot be certain, especially as these visions of yours are unpredictable. I will stand guard over you tonight from a distance in case of some… undesired side effects."

Eragon froze. He had read about the Dreaming Pine roots briefly during his studies with Oromis. The patient would be given ground up roots from the tree in a warming liquid and upon their sleep, would experience what had been described as 'their greatest desires played out within the confines of their own mind.' The patient would often appear restless during their sleep. The lack of inhibition often resulted in sleep talking. Despite the desired effect of the root, it was rarely used other then for medicinal purposes. Addiction was always valid concern upon repeated use, but the patient had little to no control of his or her actions while under its effects. They could call out their deepest desires for the world to hear and be none the wiser until they awoke.

While Eragon appreciated the gesture, he knew he could not use that root. Even if Arya was not going to watch over him during the night, he would not be able to control what he said or did while under its influence. Worse still, was that he knew that there was almost a one hundred percent chance that some part of his dreams would include the very elf who was watching over him. She may have been aware of his feelings, but there was no reason to potentially ruin what little friendship they had because he could control his thoughts.

"I appreciate the thought Arya, but I do not think it will be necessary. I am feeling slightly better. Perhaps…just the act of sharing my troubles has elevated their effect. I believe I should see how I rest tonight before I use anything that could prove problematic in the future."

Arya looked at Eragon without moving a muscle. He was prepared for some kind of resistance; after all, his excuse was barely valid. However, he could not tell her the real reason for his hesitation.

Arya bowed her head before him. "Very well. We will see how you are faring in the morning. But my offer will still stand if you have not improved. Rest well Shadeslayer and I will see you in the morning." Her reply was terse and direct, yet not unkind. Eragon suspected she did not want to accept his reasoning; however he was exceedingly glad that she did. He bid her goodnight before he begun running back towards the Citadel. On his return journey, he mused over whether revealing his visions to Arya had helped relieve his problems…or simply created more.

*** *** ***

Saphira sat with her tail still swirling the large-salty-blue-green-waters behind her. While concerned for her rider, she suspected that the Elvin princess who was still rooted beside her was struggling in her own right. He suspicions were confirmed when Saphira felt Arya's presence touch her mind.

_Yes Arya?_

The elf sighed before answering. _I know there is more to his refusal of the dreaming pine root then what he obviously wanted me to believe. Why is it he will not accept my help Saphira when he knows that it will most likely save him from another night of terrors?_

_Arya, I am well aware that your help was given purely out of your concern for my rider's wellbeing, as I know he is also. But sometimes one must weigh up the consequences of two courses of action, one of which will always come up short. I believe Eragon simply concluded he would loose less by continuing as he is._

Arya looked decidedly troubled at that revelation. _Saphira, surely he would gain more by allowing me to help him. He cannot go on as he is. You of all people must know how exhausted he is. Sometimes we must swallow our pride and do what we must…_

_It is not pride that is preventing him from accepting your help Arya Svit-Kona. Eragon may have his faults, but pride is not one of them. Please do not carelessly place faults on others simply because you do not understand their reasoning. You know the effects of such a plant. Can you not think of a reason why he may not want to be put in such a position?_

Saphira knew from Arya's expression that it had been a long time since she had been rebuked so blatantly. Annoyed as she was that the elf could not see what was so evidently in front of her, Saphira did not wish to alienate her. Besides her rider, she was one of only a few humans with whom she cared to converse with over any extended period of time. She supposed she would call her a friend if dragons thought in those terms.

_I know you are frustrated with my rider Arya. To you, it seems that he is refusing a perfectly logical respite for no particular reason. But you must trust that he has one. We are both exceedingly grateful for your help, regardless of whether we take you up on it or not._

Arya finally turned to face the beautiful sapphire dragon beside her. Her brow was creased and her mouth made a tight line. On anyone else, the expression would look angry, but Saphira knew that the elf was not in fact feeling as such. The place where their minds touch brought with it an underlying feeling of sadness.

_Does he not trust me Saphira? After everything we have done together, do I not have his trust?_

Saphira held Arya's gaze for a minute before answering softly within her mind.

_He trusts you with his life Arya, of that I have no doubt. His heart, however, is an entirely different matter._

*** *** ***

As the sun touched the eastern horizon the next morning, Roran sighed and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. Despite their success the night before, he had yet to put his head down and rest. From the tired eyes and slow movement around him, it seemed that most of his men were in a similar situation.

After his discovery the night before, Roran had sent for the little girl whom he had encountered during the siege but his soldiers returned only to inform him that the child was not with the other prisoners. When they inquired whether anyone had seen her, nobody claimed to know of the child. Roran was rather troubled by this news. He had sent out several men to search the surrounding countryside during the night but they too had not found her. Despite his wishes to do otherwise, Roran now had no choice but to focus his attentions on the matter of returning to the Varden camp.

Coming out of his troubling thoughts, a soldier approached him.

"Sir, the magician Carn is requesting your presence. He is with the girl we rescued last night, He says it is urgent."

Roran nodded and signaled for the soldier to lead the way. A make-shift tent served as Carn's healing quarters in which he spent the night seeing over the wounded and sick. Upon entering, Roran's nose was assaulted with the smell of pungent herbs, linen and the underlying, yet strong, stench of human blood. Numerous bodies were lined up on the edges, some in various states of consciousness. What little Roran knew of healing, he could tell that many were only sleeping, most likely by Carn's hand or herbs. The thought gave him a little comfort. His men, it seemed, did not fair too badly during the night's raid.

Towards the back of the tent, a thin cloth was placed as a curtain around one last body. With a certain amount of trepidation, Roran weaved his way through the prone bodies and drew aside the curtain.

There she lay. His friend of many years, beaten and bruised for how long he knew not. He could feel his gut twist with dread when he realized that what he felt would do nothing to rival the way his cousin would feel when they returned to camp. They had always been close, the four of them, but he knew without a doubt that they were always two pairs, rather then a foursome. He couldn't fathom how things had ended up this way. Last he heard, Aurora was safe in Narda with her father and little sister. How had she ended up captured by barbaric slavers so far south?

Those answers however it seemed were going to remain unanswered. Carn knelt beside the unconscious girl, his eyes closed and brow covered in a layer of sweat. After a moment, he knelt back and opened his eyes, turning to look bleakly at Roran.

"What is it Carn? Why have you not lifted the curse? Why can we still not touch her? Roran did his best to soften his tone but knew he did not succeed as well as he would wish.

Carn looked beyond exhausted as he glanced down at his knees. "It's not through lack of trying Roran. I simply can't." He turned his eyes back to the girl. "Everything I've tried has been to no effect. I can't know what that witch did to her. However, there is another issue here. While the curse disallows physical touch, I also cannot reach her mentally nor through magic. I can't heal her wounds Roran. Some are not of such concern and while will scar if left unattended, they are not fatal nor debilitating. However, many could cause permanent damage if they are not healed. She might never receive proper use of her right shoulder if the joint isn't put back into place and the joint healed. There are other such injuries, especially in her fingers. However, my biggest concern is infection…"

"But you said that the barrier stops all contact. How could anything penetrate that to infect her wounds?"

"Yes, nothing can penetrate the barrier Roran, but that doesn't stop what was already on her skin. Ignoring the fact that many of the severe slashes across her back look to be in the beginning signs of infection, the bacteria already present on her skin would be enough to cause terrible problems. To cut this short Roran, we need to get her back to Varden. I can't break this on my own. I'm just not strong enough. Your cousin may be able to…."

"No! He cannot know about this…"

Carn looked confused. "Roran, there is no way to keep this from him. Besides, he may be the only one strong enough to break this curse."

Roran knew this but he needed to make sure he spoke to Eragon before he got wind of this. For everyone's sake. "I know Carn, but I will be the one to tell him. Then we will see what he can do."

Carn's brows lowered slightly and he fixed Roran with a suspicious frown. After but a second, his eyebrows flew up to his forehead.

"She means something to you. To both him. That is why you are so worried!"

Roran inwardly sighed. He supposed he had done little to hide his concern. "Yes Carn, both Eragon and I know her. But know one else can know of the yet. There are too many unanswered questions. I need you to keep your silence.

Carn bowed his head in agreement. "I trust your judgment Roran. I will keep this to myself. But we need to hurry. I dare not leave this unattended for much longer. We must get her back to the camp."

As Roran left the tent to rally the men into action, he glanced to the south-east and breathed out an uneasy breath. _How am I going to tell Eragon?_

*** *** ***

**A/N: So I am working on the next chapter and hope to have it up soon! As always, let me know what you think!**

**Mel ;P**


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